


Sharing is Caring

by strangeandwonderfulconcepts



Category: Ben Hardy - Fandom, Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, They have to share one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 18:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17208998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandwonderfulconcepts/pseuds/strangeandwonderfulconcepts
Summary: Snippets of the days in the life of our favorite threesome (1970s!Roger, Ben, and Reader. Takes place in present day) where ‘sharing is caring’. Mostly fluffy, hints of smut.





	Sharing is Caring

“There’s been a mistake.”

You, Ben, and Roger stared at the bed in the hotel room that you had just walked into. A twin-sized bed. 

“I didn’t even know hotels had beds that small,” Ben frowned. Roger walked over to it and sat on it, bouncing a little. 

“It’s not that bad,” He shrugged. 

Crossing your arms, you looked between Roger and Ben. 

“We each have a little of our own space in a king size bed. It’s a little tight but manageable in a queen. How the hell do you think the three of us are going to sleep on that bed?”

Roger rolled his eyes.

“Sometimes, love, you are so unimaginative.”

“And Roger, sometimes, I don’t want you drooling on me with your hand up my shirt and Ben snoring in my ear.”

“Hey, don’t bring me into this,” Ben held his hands up in defense. 

A phone call to the lobby confirmed what you already suspected: you had received the wrong bed type in your room. However, they regretted to inform you that they had no other available rooms due to a concert nearby. The irony, because you knew exactly whose concert it was, made you pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“See? This isn’t that bad,” Roger said smugly. His chest was pressed to your back tightly, his arm slung around your waist, Every time he breathed out, your hair whipped across your cheek like it was being tossed in a strong breeze. Ben faced you, his nose nearly touching yours.

“How did I wind up in the middle?” You groaned. 

“You smell the best,” Ben huffed and pressed a kiss to your cheek before reaching behind him to turn off the bedside lamp. 

“I already showered once today. Can’t expect me to do it every time I work up a sweat, can you?” Roger muttered against your shoulder.

“Yes, we can,” You sighed and scrunched up your nose. Ben laughed softly and kissed the tip of it. 

“It’s one night,” He murmured. “Go to sleep.”

“Besides,” Roger pressed a wet kiss to your neck, and his hand snapped the elastic of your underwear. “We know you secretly love being so close.”

*****

“I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late,” You sang as you flew into the bathroom. Ben stood at the sink brushing his teeth and Roger was fogging up the mirror from the heat of his shower. Throwing your hair up in a ponytail, you quickly whisked some mascara on and reached for your toothbrush. Only to find its slot empty.

“Where’s my toothbrush?” You frowned. You made eye contact with Ben in the mirror and watched as his eyes widened and yours narrowed in realization.

“Benjamin Hardy, is that my toothbrush in your mouth?” You spoke evenly. 

"It’s not a big deal. It’s just a toothbrush,” He shrugged and spit into the sink. You glared at the back of his head.

“It’s my toothbrush,” You said. 

Roger chose this moment to step out of the shower, wrapping a towel low on his waist. 

“You had his dick in your mouth last night and you’re worried about sharing a toothbrush?” He quirked an eyebrow at you, his lips turning up in a wicked grin. You could feel your cheeks start to burn. 

“That is not the same thing,” You pointed a finger at him. 

“No, I’d definitely say one is more personal than the other,” Ben agreed, dropping your toothbrush back in the holder. You were momentarily at a loss for words.

Ben kissed your cheek as he walked out of the bathroom. You watched him go, dumbfounded, as you wondered just how often he used your toothbrush.

“If we are confessing toothbrush usage,” Roger walked to the sink and grabbed yours from where Ben had just left it. “I’ve used yours every time I’ve forgotten to pack mine.”

You gasped.

“You’re animals. Both of you.”

*****

The restaurant was dimly lit, candlelight flickering over the guests. It made your golden dress shimmer, matching the champagne in your hand. The three of you were sat in a corner booth, Ben sat across from you and Roger. 

“Just try a bite,” You held up your fork to Ben’s mouth again. He grimaced and pressed his lips together. 

“I don’t like mushrooms,” He said, trying to move his lips as little as possible in case you tried to sneak the fork in. You had only done that once and after he had spat out the piece of broccoli onto the table, you didn’t dare try again. 

“You can’t even taste them, Ben,” You urged, circling the fork in the air. 

“Why are you torturing the poor boy?” Roger asked, resting his arm over your shoulders. 

“Because it tastes so good. He shouldn’t miss out,” You argued, turning back to Ben. Softer, you said, “I think I can recall Roger saying something similar last night.”

Ben’s eyebrows shot up and Roger snickered into your shoulder. You gestured with the fork again. This time Ben opened his mouth tentatively, accepting the bite of ravioli. You watched, amused, as he chewed and swallowed. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip and desire pooled low in your stomach. 

“Well?” You asked, your voice a little breathless. 

“Delicious,” Ben gave you a slow grin, his fingers tapping on the tabletop. 

The waiter arrived at your side.

“Can I get you anything else?”

Roger laughed, his palm already sliding along your inner thigh.

“Just the check.”

*****

You came home to find the bedroom torn apart. Clothes were scattered all over the floor and bed, dresser drawers still thrown open. If you hadn’t come across this scene several times before, you would’ve been concerned that you’d been robbed. Changing into a pair of grey sweats and a black tee shirt, you padded back out to the kitchen. 

Ben stood in between the living room and the kitchen, his phone in his hand. He looked up as you came out, his pink lips curving up in a fond smile. 

“Those are mine,” He commented. You looked down at the shirt.

“I thought it was Roger’s.”

“I was talking about the sweats.”

“Oh. Yeah, those are yours,” You smiled and stretched up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He caught you by the waist. Suddenly, you could feel his fingertip along your inner thigh. You jerked in his arms and looked up at him.

“There’s a hole in these. Never noticed before,” He smiled, continuing to stroke your soft skin. You shivered, the gentle touch sending a tingle up your spine.

“Probably never seen them on someone else,” You teased and knocked your hip into his. You stepped out of his arms, missing his warm touch as soon as you left it, but knowing if you didn’t eat something in the next five minutes you were going to keel over. 

Ben sat at the counter watching as you pre-heated the oven.

“Roger couldn’t find a shirt he liked?” You asked over your shoulder. 

“Nope. Had an interview with the BBC and suddenly hated everything that he owned,” Ben rolled his eyes, but his smile was soft. 

“Did he end up wearing something of yours?” You asked. Ben shrugged.

“Don’t know. He was already gone by the time I got home.”

You and Ben ate frozen pizza at the counter, swapping your stories from the day. Close to midnight, Roger walked in. He was all smiles as he joined the two of you, kissing your temple and Ben’s cheek. 

“Interview went well then?” Ben asked. 

“Brilliantly,” Roger grinned, pulling himself on top of the counter and helping himself to your pizza crust. He wore a checkered shirt and you recognized it immediately. It was tight across his shoulders, but he pulled it off well with his ripped jeans and dark sunglasses. Still, you couldn’t help but giggle.

Roger kicked out his foot against your shin lightly.

“What’re you laughing at?”

“Roger, that’s my shirt.”


End file.
